Concerns
by aliis
Summary: A far-from-conventional property con...
1. Chapter 1

"That's three and a half hours of my life I'll never get back." Cupping his hands against the wind gusting between the tall buildings, Ash proceeded to light up a cigarette and puffed the resulting smoke into the breeze.

"Oh, Ash, I thought you'd given up…" Stacie sounded so disappointed, and the cigarette suddenly didn't satisfy him at all. He impulsively flung the thing to the ground and crushed it with the heel of his shoe. He was rewarded with a delighted smile and Stacie hooking her arm through his.

"Mickey'll be pleased," she announced.

"D'you think? Me personally, I don't see it. A time-share scam? If I did that I'd just feel like one of those layabouts that wanders up and down the seafront at Malaga, ambushing British tourists."

"No, no, the whole point is to scam the scammer," explained Stacie. "You know, payback for all those people she's conned."

"_Don't _say 'conned'," Ash reprimanded her. "What we do is poles apart from those shysters." His hand automatically went to his mouth and he realised with a start that he wasn't having a smoke any more.

"Of course we're different! But retired couples don't deserve to lose their life savings like that…"

"…whereas, leeches like Nugent do?" finished Ash. "I dunno, Stace. Aren't we just lowering ourselves to her level?"

"Well, that would depend on the con, wouldn't it? Why don't you wait and see what Albert and Mickey have to say, and then decide whether you want in or not?"

Ash snorted. "It's not a matter of whether I'm in or not, I'm part of the crew, and we're in it together. Like the crown jewels score."

"I think we _all_ needed a bit of persuading on that one," Stacie agreed. "But everything worked out in the end, didn't it?"

Ash nodded, still cautious, then said, "Let's see what Mick and Albert come up with."

**********

Ash had set up the projector and screen. "Popcorn, anyone?"

"Lights, camera, action, please," replied Mickey with a smile, and Stacie got up to draw the curtains so they could see the film. She crossed the room and stood beside the screen as the image first blurred, then snapped into focus. The filming had been done from Ash's perspective, using a hidden camera in a briefcase.

"This is the St Leonards Hall at London University, where I was invited to go and hear a presentation by Apex Properties. They're a timeshare company that sells holiday apartments and villas," Stacie began. The film moved through to the hall where the meeting was taking place; dozens of people, mostly couples, milled around chatting, until a woman stepped up to a podium and spoke into the microphone, requesting that they take their seats. Stacie continued with her commentary.

"Anthea Nugent, the rep from Apex Properties. She's very convincing. If I'd even been only slightly interested in having a holiday home on the Med, her presentation could well have sucked me in."

Phrases like "win-win situation", "ideal investment opportunity", and "take charge of your life" were peppered liberally throughout Nugent's spiel. After less than ten minutes, Albert called out, "Enough already! Dear Lord, it's relentless!"

With a grin, Ash stopped the film, and Mickey opened the curtains to allow the daylight back in.

"She _is _a bit much, isn't she?" said Stacie with a raised eyebrow.

"And the rest!" exclaimed Mickey. "How long did she go on for?"

"Three and a half hours," answered Stacie, and was gratified at the horror and amazement on Albert and Mickey's faces.

"I lost the will to live after the first fifteen minutes," put in Ash. "Thank goodness for internet phones, I was able to get some research done while she was boring everyone to death."

"Having said that," said Stacie, "more than ten couples were ready to sign up at the end of the meeting. She's obviously very good at what she does. But," she emphasised, "in that respect, she's no different from any other timeshare sales rep. What Ash turned up…well, I'll let him explain that bit." She sat on the sofa next to Mickey and watched expectantly as Ash rose to take his turn.

He attached a 6"x4" photograph of Anthea Nugent to the board beside the projection screen. Her hair was flame red in an obviously flattering corporate shot. "Mrs. Nugent is, according to the blurb on Apex's website, one of their most senior and successful representatives. She's been with them since day one, nearly twenty years ago."

"She's wearing well," noted Albert.

Ash shrugged and pulled a face. "If you like that sort of thing," he replied. "I looked into the company reports and accounts for Apex, and it looks all above board so far. However, Mrs. Nugent is an entirely different kettle of wotsit. Before her appearance on the timeshare scene at Apex, she doesn't exist." He paused to let this information sink in.

"Witness protection?" suggested Mickey.

"That was my first instinct, too. Having drawn a blank with her marriage to Mr. Nugent, though, I decided to try some slightly more creative research."

"He got me to dip her handbag," interspersed Stacie.

"Nicely done!" Albert clapped his hands together in approval.

Ash spread several credit and debit cards on the table between them, as well as a driving licence and an electricity bill. "Spot the deliberate mistake," he challenged.

The others pored over the items. Mickey was quickest and looked up in surprise. "They're all in different names!"

Ash pointed at him. "Go to the top of the class!" he smirked.

"They're all for Anthea, but not one of them is the same as the other," added Albert, still studying the cards. He lifted them in turn and read out the surnames. "Logan…Dimitriou…Wilkins…Petersen…good grief, the woman must have the most phenomenal memory!"

"I thought perhaps a spook," proposed Ash.

Mickey's eyes had lit up. "She's a grifter," he said with total certainty.

Stacie whirled round in dismay. "She can't be!"

"That doesn't necessarily mean she can't be a mark," interjected Albert. The others looked at him. "The sweetest con of all…"

"…is to con another grifter…" mused Mickey.

"I wouldn't dignify her with the title of 'grifter'," said Ash sourly.

"There's more?" Albert enquired.

"Oh yes. The address on the electric bill is a nice terraced house in Kew - " again, Ash pinned up a photograph – "and still no evidence of any Mr., Nugent or otherwise. A friendly cat, though, and a _very_ nice Audi." Both were included in the photo.

"Not unnecessarily ostentatious," remarked Albert.

"No," agreed Ash. "But for the next two days, she didn't go home after her presentations…at least, not to Kew." Another photo went up. Mickey whistled in admiration.

"Is that in Hollywood?" Albert adjusted his glasses and peered more closely at the picture of an ornate detached house with immaculate gardens.

"Nearly – Borehamwood," grinned Ash. "I finally picked up her trail on the third day as she left the seminar, and this is where she went. Fortunately I had some props with me, so I was able to stand in for the regular window cleaner and chat to a couple of the neighbours. With what they told me, I went back to the records and pinpointed her real identity: Ann North. She has, in fact, never married and there never has been a Mr. Nugent – that's just another in the long list of assumed names she uses."

"So why all the aliases?" wondered Stacie.

"My guess would be in order to hide from someone or something," Albert mused.

"Full marks again," said Ash. "Possibly the law, but definitely this man…" The others looked on with keen interest as he displayed his final photo, of a rather dumpy but very well-dressed man in his fifties. Ash tapped the picture with his forefinger.

"Evan Porteous, a Newcastle businessman who for some years has been trying to trace the woman who bankrupted him and nearly cost him his marriage. Piecing it all together, I think we've found her."

"Would I be right in thinking that he probably isn't the last person she took to the cleaners?" asked Albert.

"You would indeed, Albert," Ash replied. He passed round a two-page computer printout. "These are the names and last known addresses for eighteen individuals who I reckon Anthea Nugent has cleaned out over the years, in one guise or another. She doesn't seem to have targeted the usual types of mark, like bankers, CEOs, or heiresses – she tends to aim lower, and when she does, she often takes out people who have worked their way up from pretty deprived circumstances."

"People who might never manage to rebuild their lives," stated Albert.

"So you're saying that she picks on people with enough money to keep her ticking over, but not enough that they can afford to be fleeced?" Stacie asked.

"Certainly looks that way. I'm still waiting for a couple of documents to come back to confirm all of these as her victims, but even if it's only half the people on this list, she's had an impact on the lives of quite a few folk. She's listed as the director of over a dozen companies who have since gone to the wall."

"A vulture," declared Albert, obviously disgusted.

"To put it mildly," agreed Ash. He looked across at Mickey, who was sitting back and listening to the discussion. "Well? What d'you think, Mick?"

There was a short pause, then Mickey answered, "I think you should run this one, Ash. You and Stacie have done all the leg work, without letting the mark get close enough to identify you. Stacie, you know what you want to do, don't you?" Stacie nodded affirmatively. "Then you and Ash get together and go over it, bring us the finished product, and Albert and I will fit in wherever you want us to."

Ash was speechless, Stacie no less so.

"For goodness' sake, say something, one of you!" exclaimed Albert, amused. When no-one did, he went on, "Ash, with your grifting experience and your gift for improvisation you could do this with one hand tied behind your back. And Stacie, my dear, this is exactly the type of con at which you excel. You are able to bring the mark into your confidence, especially when it's a woman, to identify with you, and then when she least expects it, wham! you hit her where it hurts most. It's perfect for both of you."

Stacie gave a lopsided smile. "I think we'll manage just fine, don't you, Ash?" Turning to the eldest member of the crew, she said, "Albie, you're on first."

***********

"Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Wotherspoon, it's been a pleasure to meet you and help you fulfil your dreams." Anthea Nugent shook hands with a frail-looking couple who tottered off as Albert approached the front of the lecture hall. He extended a hand in greeting.

"William Groves, Mrs. Nugent. I must say I'm heartily impressed with your ideas, and would like some more information before I make a decision."

"Mr. Groves, I'm so glad you enjoyed the presentation, and of course I can tell you anything you'd like to know. Won't you take a seat?" She indicated a chair, and sat down to continue the conversation. "Now, what was it you wanted to ask about? Do you have our brochure?"

"Yes, I have that, thank you. I was just wondering how much this…" here Albert turned to a page in the brochure – "…home would cost."

"Our Algarve Deluxe! Well, let me do some sums for you, Mr. Groves, and see what I can come up with…" The saleswoman tapped out her calculations and beamed widely at Albert. "I think you'll be pleasantly surprised at how easily you can afford it with our special payment plan."

**********

"So how much did she try and sting you for, Albert?"

"Ooh, she was good - £750,000 in four 'easy' payments."

Ash whistled and Mickey mouthed a flabbergasted "Wow".

Stacie looked quietly smug as she produced a file and handed it to Mickey. "_You_ have a job interview at Apex Properties."

His eyebrows raised, Mickey leafed through the paperwork.

"As what?" he asked.

"Sales rep. All you need to know is in there, including your back story."

"Oh, apparently I'm Scott Deakin, highly-experienced foreign property agent," he remarked as he read the CV.

"That's right, and in approximately two hours you're due at Apex's offices in the City to see if they'll take you on for a day's work trial – all the advantages of being on the inside, with none of the actual pay, unfortunately."

"I'm sure I'll survive." Mickey gave a broad smirk.

"Meanwhile, Ash and I are about to move in around the corner from Mrs. Nugent…" Stacie looked conspiratorially at Ash, who smiled and said, "Borehamwood, here we come!"


	2. Chapter 2

Ash sized up the apartment block from across the street, then looked back down at the property specification.

"A sumptuous two-bedroom flat with amazing views…luxury bathroom…freshly decorated throughout…private parking."

He got back in the car and drove the five minutes to the estate agent's office, where he paid a month's rent in advance, plus deposit, and collected the keys. Unbidden, a satisfied grin turned up the corners of his mouth till his eyes crinkled. Ash pressed a couple of buttons on the dash-mounted phone, and when Stacie answered, he said, "I've got the keys, so pack your bags, girl!" An excited squeal told him all he needed to know.

**********

"Oh, I'm _so _sorry!" Stacie immediately bent down and helped the surprised woman retrieve the contents of her bags.

"That's all right, I should be more careful of where I'm going!" was the amused reply. Anthea Nugent looked closely at Stacie, her head to one side. "Do I know you?"

"I don't think so," answered Stacie, still busy repacking the Waitrose bags. "I've just moved in round the corner – well, _we've _just moved in, I should say…" She indicated the apartments down the street.

"Oh, very nice! I believe they've been recently renovated."

"It's certainly a lovely flat," agreed Stacie. "We're settling in rather well." As if the thought had just occurred to her, she added, "Why don't you come round for dinner one evening?"

The woman hesitated, then seemed to throw caution to the winds. "Why not? That would be very nice, I feel like I hardly ever meet new people round here, although I've lived in this area most of my life."

Stacie made a mental note of the first lie, and used it. "Really? Well, Jack and I must pick your brains about the neighbourhood when you come round…oh, sorry, how rude of me – I'm Samantha McCoy." Stacie extended her hand and Nugent took it in a firm handshake.

"Anthea Nugent. Very nice to meet you."

"I'll let you get on," said Stacie. "And I'd better finish my run, or I'll be late back – that'll never do!" She waved as she jogged off towards the park, and Anthea looked thoughtfully at the receding figure, then turned and walked up the drive to her front door.

**********

"Come in, come in!" Stacie stepped aside to allow Anthea to enter the apartment, then showed her through to the living room.

"What superb taste you have!" exclaimed the guest, looking at the carefully-chosen prints on the wall.

"What can I get you to drink?" smarmed Ash, who had appeared suddenly and placed himself quite close to Anthea. She jumped back, a little startled by the man at her side sporting a crew cut and a gold tooth.

"Anthea, this is my husband Jack."

"Delighted." Ash made a little inclination of his head and shook hands.

"I was just saying to Samantha what excellent taste you both have in art."

"Oh, that old crap. I just let her put what she wants on the walls, don't bother with it myself. Would you like some wine, sweetheart, or something a little stronger?"

"Actually, I very rarely touch alcohol. Do you have any soft drinks?" replied Anthea.

This idea seemed to cause "Jack" some culture shock, but Stacie stepped into the breach and smoothed things over.

"Would you like orange juice, or a Coke, Anthea? Or perhaps a mineral water?"

"Orange juice, please, with some ice if you have it."

"No problem. I'll get that." Stacie motioned for Ash to sit down, and went through to the kitchen.

"Sooo, Anthea, what line of work are you in? Bet it pays well, whatever it is, that's some gaff you've got there." Ash sniffed loudly and took a long chug at his beer.

"I inherited the house from my father. I was brought up here, you know, then moved out when I went to university. It was only a few years ago that Daddy passed away and I came back to live here. Oh, thank you, Samantha."

Stacie handed round the drinks and said, "Well, I think I'd like to propose this first toast in our new home: to new beginnings, and new friends!"

Ash and Anthea joined in with gusto, and the trio moved through to the dining room where the rest of the evening passed pleasantly enough, despite Ash's deliberate wide-boy persona.

**********

"How was your dinner party, my dear?" Albert asked with concern. "Everything going according to plan, I hope?"

"Absolutely," replied Stacie, as she tried to catch the attention of a waiter. "I'm her new best friend, and she thinks that Ash is an oaf. What's the news from Apex Towers?"

"Ah, Mickey reports that he's been kept on for a month's _paid _trial, after an extremely successful first day there."

"Has he been able to find anything we could use?" Stacie was still having no luck in attracting the services of the waiting staff.

"He thinks so. He's made copies of all the documents he's seen so far that might be relevant, and I've got them here for you." Albert handed over a green document pocket.

"For goodness' sake!" exclaimed a frustrated Stacie as a third waiter totally ignored her hand signals. "Sorry, Albie, but the service in this place is dreadful. Thank Mickey for getting these for me." She leaned down to slide the wallet into the bag resting on the floor beside her.

"Is everything all right at the apartment?" Albert asked, sounding anxious. "Things aren't too awkward with you and Ash?"

"Awkward? Why on earth would things be awkward? Ah, finally!" A waiter stood by their table. "We'd like the bill, please." Stacie looked pointedly at her watch and added, "Quickly, if you don't mind." Turning back to Albert, she said, "I really need to get back to take over from Ash. He's going a little stir crazy, I think."

"That's exactly the kind of thing I was talking about," Albert said firmly.

"Oh, he'll be fine," countered Stacie. She clicked her tongue in annoyance at the lack of speed with which the waiter was returning to their table. "Thank you, here you are," she said, placing the money in the folder and handing it straight back. "And now…" – she stood up and bent over to kiss Albert – "…I'll be off. Stay in touch!" With that, Stacie left the restaurant and a very bemused Albert in her wake.

**********

"All set, Stace?"

"Yep, how do I look?" Stacie executed a little twirl.

"Triffic. Very convincing." Ash grinned, gave her a peck on the cheek, and opened the front door. "Five-fifty – she should be home any minute. See you!" He made his way downstairs to the residents' car park, got behind the wheel, and waited. A moment later, Anthea Nugent's Audi swept past, and Ash put his car into gear and followed her. He pulled up behind her at the end of the street where she was indicating to turn right, and leaned hard on the horn. He could see the shocked and angry face looking back at him in her rear view mirror.

"Ah, get on with it!" he mouthed, gesticulating out of his window and sounding the horn again. Nugent's car turned right, and right again into her driveway, where she jumped out and stormed to the kerbside as Ash roared past in his top-of-the-range BMW coupé.

"Honestly, what a cretin!" she muttered to herself. Five minutes later, she was pouring herself a cup of tea when the doorbell rang. On answering it, she was appalled to see a distraught Stacie.

"Samantha! What on earth's happened? Come in!" The tea was immediately set down on the hall table, and Anthea solicitously guided Stacie onto the sofa in her front room. Offering her a box of tissues, she sat beside her and said, "Tell me what's wrong."

Hiccupping and tearful, Stacie said, "I don't know if I can," and blew her nose several times.

"Nonsense, of course you can. Is it your family? Is someone unwell?"

Stacie shook her head. "No, it's Jack." Another blow into the hanky.

"Jack?" Anthea repeated, puzzled. Then light dawned. "Has he hit you?" Stacie looked up, seeming unsure if she should trust this woman. "You can tell me, I can help you."

"No-one can help me," sobbed Stacie. "He'll kill me if I tell _anyone_."

"He will not!" replied Anthea most emphatically. "Has he gone out?" Then, remembering what had occurred earlier, she said, "I saw him driving away. Has he left for good?"

"I don't think so. He hasn't taken anything with him." She looked up with a doleful face that would have made anyone's heart break. "Oh, Anthea, what am I going to do? I love him so much, and I'd forgive him in an instant. He just gets so angry. He's very jealous." She dabbed at her eyes and nose.

"Jealous? What on earth is there to be jealous of?" asked Anthea in astonishment.

"He's convinced I'm seeing other men behind his back. You see, I work in marketing and deal with clients all day, meet them for lunch, and most of them are men - and he thinks I've been unfaithful to him."

"What rubbish. Anyone can see you're devoted to him. He must be terribly insecure. But that's absolutely no excuse for what he's done to you. Is this the first time this has happened?" Stacie was silent. "It isn't, is it? The bastard. You must pack all your things up tonight, before he comes home, and go and stay with your family or a friend. I'll take you in my car." Anthea stood up, action decided upon.

Stacie turned away, still sitting hunched on the settee. "I don't have anyone else," she whispered.

With only a moment's hesitation, Anthea said, "Then you must come here. Jack need never know. Why would he suspect you'd only moved round the corner? Leave him a note saying you've gone abroad, or something like that, and he won't think for a minute that you're here. Come on now, let's get going." She hoisted Stacie up by the arm and practically marched her back round to the flat, where she supervised the packing of a couple of bags of essentials.

A little over an hour later, with Stacie safely ensconced upstairs in Anthea's guest room, the bell rang once more, and the door opened to reveal Ash standing there, looking as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.

Anthea seized the opportunity to put him on the back foot. "Jack, the very man. What on earth were you sounding your horn at me for? Were my brake lights not working or something?" she demanded haughtily.

"Brake lights?" Ash frowned. "Oh…no…listen, Anthea, never mind that. Have you seen my Sam anywhere? Has she been round here tonight?"

"Sam?" Anthea looked even more disapproving and incredulous. "Why on earth would she come here?"

Ash appeared somewhat discomfited. "Well, when I got home tonight she'd taken some clothes and stuff. There was a note saying she'd gone away for a few days, and I just wondered…well, if she'd said anything to you about where she might be headed."

Anthea raised a schoolmarmish eyebrow. "I still don't see why you think she would have come here, or told me her plans. I barely know you both." She stared Ash down frostily. "Was there anything else?"

"Er…no. But," as the door started to close, "if you see or hear from her…"

"You'll be the first to know," Anthea said scathingly, and slammed the door in his face. The porch light went out, and she had no idea that Ash looked like the cat who'd got the cream.


	3. Chapter 3

"Mr. Porteous, thank you for agreeing to see me. I hope I haven't inconvenienced you at all."

"Well, I have to confess I was quite intrigued to get your message. I'd like to know, for a start, how you found out about my business dealings from all those years ago." The stout man settled himself back in the armchair in anticipation of a good story.

"It's very simple – I work for Anthea Nugent, or Ann North, as I believe you knew her."

Evan Porteous looked shell-shocked. "You work _for_ her? Then why the hell are you talking to me? No, don't answer that. Carry on."

"Can I get you a drink?"

"Why, do I look as though I need one? Thanks, I'm fine." He waited expectantly as Mickey took a sip of water.

"You'd like to catch up with her, I'm sure. I can arrange that."

Porteous rubbed his face ruefully. "I don't know about 'catch up' with her…you know, all these years I've dreamed and schemed about what I'd do if I ever _did _find her, and now that the possibility has presented itself, I have absolutely no idea what I should do." The man looked totally at a loss.

"Could I perhaps make a suggestion?" Mickey asked.

"Please do! I'd be glad of it. And I think I might have that drink now, if you don't mind."

**********

On seeing the display light up silently, Stacie answered her mobile phone and spoke, almost whispered, into it. "Ash?"

"Yes, how's things there?"

"All good. I can't speak for long, though, there's not much privacy." Stacie broke off as she heard the squeak of a loose stair tread. "Gotta go." She ended the call and tossed the phone into her handbag, then curled up under the bedcovers.

There was a tentative knock at the door, and Anthea poked her head into the room. "Are you all right?" she asked quietly. "Fancy some breakfast? I've made us some scrambled eggs, nice comfort food."

Stacie sat up and rubbed her eyes. "That sounds lovely, but I don't know if I could eat much just now," she replied.

"That's OK." Anthea sat down on the edge of the bed. "Just come down and eat as much as you feel like." She looked at her watch. "I have to go out in about half an hour, I've a meeting I must take. But you have the run of the house, wash some clothes if you need to, help yourself to whatever you fancy to eat or drink." She stood up to go. "I'll put your eggs in the oven to keep them warm. And there's plenty of bread if you want some toast to go with them." She slipped out, leaving Stacie hugging her knees on the bed.

Thirty minutes later, when the front door slammed shut, Stacie stood at the side of the bedroom window to watch Anthea get into the car and drive away. Retrieving her phone, she went quickly downstairs and into the kitchen, and rang Ash while she waited for the toast to pop.

"You can come over now, she's gone. Come in the back way, though, just in case she's got nosey neighbours. I'll let you in at the kitchen door."

Ash appeared in short order and was admitted to the premises. He looked a bit disappointed at having missed a hot breakfast, but didn't mention it. Instead, he followed Stacie into the downstairs room which Anthea used as a home office.

"Right, I'll do the computer, you take the filing cabinet – it looks promising," Ash instructed as he switched the machine on. He looked around the room. "Has she taken her laptop?"

Stacie thought for a second or two. "She had a briefcase with her when she left, which might well have been a laptop bag."

"What colour was it? I've seen her carrying a dark blue computer case."

"Yes, that's the one. So she's possibly got some files on that computer that won't be on her home one." Stacie nodded over to the desk where the main computer was booting up.

"I'll just have a look and see what's here. But she strikes me as the old-fashioned type that still keeps hard copies of everything. See what you can come up with." He set to work investigating all the drives and folders he could, using a few dodges to locate any hidden files that might be lurking. Stacie started carefully going through the first cabinet drawer, making sure that she didn't disturb the documents and leave signs of intrusion.

"Did the stuff Mickey found have anything good in it we can use?" asked Ash, his eyes still on the computer screen.

"Possibly, things are looking up with the company accounts. I take it he managed to meet up with Evan Porteous?"

"Yes, that went well, too, the guy seems happy to be involved in a spot of revenge."

"Good. Well, we'd better get on with this," replied Stacie, and silence descended on the study as the pair worked diligently into the afternoon.

**********

"Yasmina, get Scott to come in." Anthea Nugent replaced the phone on its cradle, and a few moments later Mickey came bustling into her fourth-floor office.

"Yes, Mrs. Nugent?" he asked, stylus poised to tap on his tablet computer.

"I want you to check out apartment rentals in the Paddington area. One-bedroom jobs. Not too dingy, but nothing upmarket either. All right?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'll have a report for you in fifteen minutes. Oh, and a gentleman phoned for you this morning while you were in your meeting…a Mr. Porteous?" Mickey was highly gratified to see the colour drain from Anthea's face and her mouth hang open. "Is there a problem? Shall I put him off if he calls again?"

Finally regaining the power of speech, Anthea said, somewhat hoarsely, "Yes, do that." Mickey turned to go, and she called, "Did he leave a number?"

"I believe he did, yes. Shall I contact him and…"

"No, don't do that." The woman almost fell over herself as she got up and came around the desk to be close to Mickey, and spoke very softly, as if she were afraid of eavesdroppers. "I want you to trace that phone number and find an address for Mr. Porteous. Tell no-one what you're doing. Understand?"

"Perfectly, ma'am. Will that be all?"

"For just now, yes. Make that a priority, but don't forget the Paddington task. And get back to me ASAP!" Mickey left the office as Anthea bellowed, "Yasmina! Tea!" and the beleaguered secretary hurried through with a mug in her hand.

**********

"You've really rattled her, Mick. She came home in a foul mood tonight, barely said two words. Just as well Stacie couldn't give a monkey's if she never sees the woman again. And how's Evan Porteous shaping up?" Ash drained his glass and waggled it in Eddie's general direction.

"Coming nicely to the boil, I think. He's on board with our little surprise for Mrs. Nugent, and is trying to contact her other victims – those that aren't living in cardboard boxes or six feet under, that is."

Eddie came over with refills and a very bad grace. "Message for you from Albert – he's gone out to visit a friend, apparently." The barman stropped off again, and Mickey and Ash exchanged worried glances.

"I do hope he hasn't…" Mickey trailed off, not wanting to say it.

"He's not that daft, surely. This is Albert we're talking about here."

"So why didn't he just call us on one of our mobiles?"

There was a five-second pause, the drinks were abandoned, and the two men hot-footed it up into the street, where Ash had fortuitously parked the Beamer. In ten minutes they were on the A1, and fifteen minutes after that Ash coasted into the car park at the Borehamwood apartment. They fairly sprinted up to the first floor and got into the flat. All was in darkness.

"Albert!" Mickey called quietly. "Stacie?" There was no reply.

"She must still be round at the Nugent place. This isn't good, Mick. What if Albert's gone in there and blown the whole thing? She'd recognise him straight away as one of her customers."

"That wouldn't necessarily be a problem; why would she connect Albert with Stacie, unless he specifically says he's come to see her?"

Ash was unconvinced. "I'm going to get round there and play Jack the Lad again, check out how the land lies. Keep trying her mobile, Mick," he ordered, as he let himself out of the apartment.

Ash rounded the corner into the street where Anthea lived and at once spotted the shadowy figure loitering between her house and the next-door neighbour's.

"Albert, this is borderline stalking," he hissed, sidling up.

"How did you … never mind," Albert finished, resignation in his voice.

Ash placed a hand on his friend's arm. "Come back to the flat, Mickey's waiting there for us."

Albert pulled away obstinately. "I'm staying put till I'm sure Stacie's all right. She's not answering her phone, in case you hadn't noticed."

"We _had _noticed, Albert, but there's nothing we can do just now – it may just have died if she doesn't have a charger with her. She's not going to come to any great harm in there; Nugent won't have a clue that Stacie's linked to Porteous, but she might smell a rat if she spots you. Come on!" This time Ash tugged more forcefully at Albert's elbow, and succeeded in manoeuvring him back to the apartment block.

"You should have been here taking care of her, you know, not hanging about at Eddie's," said the old man accusingly to Ash. "You're supposed to be looking out for each other."

"We are!" Ash was starting to lose patience as they entered the flat.

"Albert, for pity's sake…" Mickey sounded as exasperated as Ash felt. "What in the world did you think you were doing?"

"_Somebody _has to look after Stacie." Albert glared at Ash.

"Are you implying I'm not?" retorted Ash, his dander up.

"Whoa, enough!" Mickey stood between the pair like a boxing referee. "Let's just all calm down. Ash, make us some coffee, will you? Albert, come into the living room and have a seat. We could all do with a breather, it's been a busy night all round."

Ash returned from the kitchen and announced, "That's the kettle on. I'm off next door to see what's what." The front door slammed and a vase on the mantelpiece rattled slightly.

Mickey raised a warning eyebrow at Albert. "He _has _been taking care of her, you know." There was no reaction on the stony visage. Mickey sat down on a chair facing the old man. "Albert, this isn't like you at all. What's the matter?"

"Stacie doesn't see what I see. It's not…" – he hunted for the right word – "…_appropriate _for her and Ash to be living here together."

Mickey sat back in utter astonishment. " 'Appropriate'?" he almost laughed. "Albert – we're grifters! _Nothing _we get up to is 'appropriate'!"

"But we have a _code._ We live by it because it works," came the retort through clenched teeth.

"I don't remember anything in the grifters' code about living arrangements, Albert. Unless you've updated it since we last discussed it." Mickey's attempt to lighten the conversation fell flat.

"We look out for each other! Haven't I taught you _anything_, Michael?"

Mickey sighed and looked at the floor, then back at his mentor. "This is crazy, Albert. _You _tell _me_ what to do, not the other way round. I know you care about Stacie – we all do – but you need to back off and let her do her job, and Ash too. You do know how mad she'd be if she thought you were 'babysitting', as well as interfering in _her_ con?"

This seemed to appease Albert slightly, and he threw up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"OK." Mickey got to his feet. "No milk or sugar in your coffee, right?"

**********

Ash hammered loudly on the front door of Anthea Nugent's house. "Sam! Sam! I know you're in there!" he roared.

The door was opened on a chain and Anthea peered out. "Go away, or I'll call the police," she stated coldly.

Ash took a few steps back and looked at the upper floor windows, none of which were lit. "Sam! I need to talk to you!"

"I'm dialling 999 right now…" Anthea brandished her phone at him.

The left hand bedroom curtain twitched and Ash caught a glimpse of a hand which first of all gave a thumbs-up, then shooed him away.

"All right, all right, I'm going. No need for the filth."

"And don't come back!" The door closed firmly but quietly behind him.

Anthea Nugent obviously valued her privacy, and was not keen to attract the undue attention of any of her neighbours. As it was, a man across the street had come to the end of his driveway to see what was going on, and Ash could see a few of the residents rubbernecking from their windows. He skulked off into Grange Crescent, passed the apartments and turned left to reach the service lane that ran behind them, where no-one would see him entering the building.

Behind her door, a very angry Anthea rammed the phone back on its base and hurried upstairs. She gave a cursory knock on the guest room door before entering. One look at her told Stacie she would have her work cut out explaining this.

"Have you told him you're here?" Anthea asked, disapproval written all over her face.

Stacie hesitated, then said, "I didn't _tell_ him, but I was looking out of the window this morning, and ... he was passing by. I think he must have caught sight of me. He's been hanging about ever since. I'm really sorry, Anthea. Of course I'll pack my bags and go."

It worked. Mollified by Stacie's contrite yet innocent explanation, Anthea said, "Don't be silly! You can stay for a few more days if you need to. But you must report him to the police for assault, or at least contact a domestic violence support group. You have to tell someone in authority what's been happening, Samantha."

"I will, Anthea." Her eyes brimming with tears, Stacie stood up and gave Anthea a hug. "I don't know what I'd have done without you these last couple of days. It's been so hard! You've been such a good friend. Thank you."

Seemingly unused to such a warm display of affection, Anthea flustered a little. "I'm sure you'd have done the same if the circumstances had been reversed," she murmured, and left the room in a hurry.

Stacie resumed her search for her mobile phone, which she finally discovered underneath the bedside table, where it had lain for some hours, its power accidentally turned off. Muffling it under the duvet, she switched it back on, and found dozens of missed calls from Mickey, Albert and Ash, plus several increasingly concerned text messages. She sighed at the mental picture of Albert pacing a room, fretting, as she knew he must be. She thumbed quickly at the keys and pressed _Send_.

**********

"Sorry Albie, fone got knocked under table by mistake & switched off. All well here & going acc 2 plan. Luv u xxx."

Ash had just at that moment returned to the apartment, and Mickey came out to meet him in the hall. He beckoned Ash to follow him into the kitchen, and closed the door quietly to keep their conversation private.

"Whatever you did, Ash, it worked. Albert's just had a text from Stacie to say she's fine, her phone had turned itself off."

Ash blew a sigh of relief and leaned back against the kitchen counter. "She managed to signal to me from the bedroom window that she was all right," he said.

"Albert's been worried sick about her, Ash. He hasn't had the benefit of being able to pop in and out of the house while Nugent's been at work. Go easy on him."

Ash nodded in agreement as he made some tea. It was getting far too late for any more coffee.


	4. Chapter 4

Anthea Nugent's PA limped along behind her, notepad and pen in hand.

"This one – what does Scott say in his report about it?" demanded the saleswoman as she stood in front of an apartment building and sized it up.

"He has it down as 'quite acceptable', and the rent's at the lower end of the price bracket," replied Yasmina. She was too terrified of her boss to tell her that if she was interested in what Scott had to say, she should be asking Scott to trail around town after her, especially as his footwear was a lot more suited to the job than hers. So she only thought it.

"Hmmm. Call the agent and get a viewing _toute de suite_," said Anthea, still pondering.

"Scott's arranged for him to meet us…" – Yasmina glanced at her watch – "…in two minutes. I guess he must have worked out how long it would take us to get here."

"He's a treasure, that one. Don't know how I managed before we got him. Heaven-sent!" gushed Anthea. Yasmina felt like slapping the woman, but instead scribbled in her notebook.

"Mrs. Nugent?" A young Hispanic-looking man extended a welcoming hand. "I'm Luis Martinez, the agent for this property. I believe you're interested in renting it?"

"Yes, indeed, Luis, I am." Anthea took his hand in both of hers. "Do give me the guided tour." She was always like this with young, attractive men. Somewhat ungratefully, Yasmina wondered why on earth Anthea had hired her when she obviously preferred to surround herself with male eye candy. Her phone rang, and she was glad of the excuse to stay outside and avoid the embarrassing display of flirting and flattery that Anthea would certainly be indulging in.

"Yasmina? It's Scott."

The PA groaned inwardly, but remained civil. "Scott. What can I do for you? Anthea's viewing the property in Dugdale Gardens just now."

"No problem, Yasmina, can you just tell her that Gardiner & Shea have rung and asked for a meeting this afternoon sometime? I said we'd get back to them within the next fifteen minutes – d'you think she'll be finished by then?"

Yasmina refrained from saying something catty, and answered, "I'll ask her, and I'll call them, Scott, if you like. I've got their number on speed dial."

"That's fantastic, thanks very much. See you later." He rang off, leaving Yasmina at a loose end until Anthea emerged from the flat, chatting to Luis as if he were an old friend.

"That's fabulous, Luis, I'll get my people to fax your office and you send us the contract, all right? Thanks again. 'Bye!" she called, as the agent took his leave. To Yasmina's practiced eye, he looked rather anxious to get away.

"What a _lovely _young man!" enthused Anthea. Yasmina passed on Scott's message and hailed a cab to take them back to the office.

*********

"I have a surprise for you," announced Anthea as she took off her coat and hung it on the hall stand.

Stacie, although inwardly taken aback, sounded eager. "Really? I love surprises!"

"Come into the study and have a look." Stacie accompanied her hostess and looked on curiously as Anthea spread out the contents of a folder on the desk.

"Now, this is a lovely little apartment in the west end that I think would suit you down to the ground. You know I'm in property, don't you? It's my forté. So you can trust me on this, it would be perfect for you. What do you think?"

Stacie was genuinely at a loss for words. Finally, she said, "Anthea…I don't…I mean, I can't…you didn't need to go to all this trouble!"

"No trouble at all, my dear, that's what I've got staff for. You mustn't feel obligated, naturally, but I'd be very pleased if you agreed to meet me tomorrow and see it for yourself. What do you say?"

"Well…yes! Of course! This is incredibly kind of you, Anthea."

"Nonsense, Samantha. Now here's the paperwork, including the agreement with all the details of the rent and so forth. I think you'll find the rent's a lot less than the apartment in Grange Crescent, and it's probably much more convenient for your work, too. You know," she went on conversationally, "I read an article yesterday about how women are isolated from their friends, families, and communities by the men who want to control and dominate them. I'll bet it was Jack's idea to move out here, wasn't it?"

Stacie nodded, mute with surprise at the turn this situation was taking. Marriage guidance counselling was _not _something she and Ash had foreseen.

"I knew it! His plan was to cut you off from your support network, remove you from your familiar surroundings, and transplant you into a situation where you would have no alternative but to become totally reliant on him. That's why he resents your working with other men – it's an area of your life he has no influence on."

All this pop psychology was getting a bit much for Stacie. "I had a phone call today from my cousin in Putney," she improvised. "We hadn't been in touch for ages, and when I told her what had happened she invited me to go and stay over with her tomorrow night."

"That's very good news!" smiled Anthea. "Now, do you know where Dugdale Gardens is?"

"Oh, I'm sure I can find it. What time shall I be there for?"

"About eleven-thirty? We can have a look round the flat, then go for a spot of lunch. How does that sound?"

"Tremendous. I really can't thank you enough…"

"Then don't, just do something for yourself and get shot of that - well, you know what I think of him," replied Anthea.

**********

The following morning, Stacie gave Anthea a head start of ten minutes to allow for traffic, then rang a taxi to take her to the station. On arriving, she paid the cab driver, got out, and walked over to where Ash was parked. She threw her bags in the back seat and got in the front.

"You all right?" Ash was patently relieved to see her safe and well after receiving her text about Anthea's offer.

"I'm fine, silly. She just caught me on the hop last night with that business about the flat in London. Where are we going first?"

"Eddie's. Albert and Mickey are meeting us there before you go and view the place. Mickey'll fill you in on anything you need to know; turns out he chose a few places for her to look at without realising what she was planning to do."

"And she picked this one over the rest? I must say it looks all right on paper, but it's probably a bit of a dump. The whole area's pretty crummy."

"Yesss. I think Albert might have something to say on that score."

Stacie smiled indulgently. "Bless his heart. He does worry a lot," she said. Ash made no reply, but kept his eye on the road.

**********

Anthea watched as Stacie excitedly inspected each room. "Oh, Anthea – I don't know what to say. This place is exactly what I need right now." She looked out of the window at the view of Paddington Station's roof.

"I've covered the first month's rent and the deposit until you get your bearings," Anthea explained. "After that, it'll be all up to you. Now, how does this suit you for travelling to work?"

"It's near the tube, so it's ideal." Stacie stayed reticent about her workplace; she didn't want anyone to go looking for some non-existent marketing agency.

"Is it quite a long commute, then?" Anthea persisted.

"Just a few stops and then change to the Jubilee Line, which takes me practically to the door." In a bid to change the subject, Stacie asked, "When can I move in?"

Anthea gave a delighted smile. "Today, of course, if you want to! Or are you still going to stay with your cousin tonight?"

"Yes, and she said she'd be happy to help me get settled – you know, go shopping with me for any bits and pieces I need. Not that I think I'll need much, this place is in walk-in condition!"

"It is that. Well, let's go and have lunch to celebrate, shall we?"

**********

"I don't know, Mickey. What do you think?" Back in the safety of the grifters' own apartment, Stacie felt able to let her guard down and speak her mind. Ash had persuaded Albert that they should give her some space and time to discuss things with Mickey.

"What does your gut tell you?"

"That something's not quite right, but I don't know what."

"Then walk away from it. Trust your instincts, as Albert would say." Mickey sat back and waited.

"But it will mean all our work's been for nothing…"

"…and nothing is worth the risk of letting the mark take control. Nothing."

"I think…well, tell me what _you_ think…that I should stay in the flat for maybe a week, see how things go. I really don't want to lose this one, Mickey."

"Stacie, you don't have to prove yourself to me or any of the others. We _know _how good you are at what you do."

Stacie shook her head emphatically. "It's not that, it's that once I start something I _have _to finish it."

"Even if it's going off the rails? Because that's what this feels like."

For a few moments, neither of them spoke, then Stacie announced, "I'm going to go back to the flat and stay there for just two or three nights, no longer. If we haven't pulled it off by then we'll just cut our losses and run. All right?"

Seeing there was no arguing with her, Mickey agreed, albeit reluctantly. "But we have to make absolutely sure you're going to be safe. I'll have Ash rig up some hidden cameras so we can keep an eye on you. You'll run this as part of the con, OK?"

"OK. Let me speak to Albie about it first, though."

**********

"Right, Stace, I'll put one in the bedroom, the living room, kitchen, shower room…"

"Shower room?! _Ash…_" pleaded Stacie, dismayed.

"Would you rather have a panic button in there?" he asked solicitously. "I can do that instead."

"That sounds a lot better," agreed Stacie. "Thank you." He got a kiss on the cheek for his trouble, and grinned shyly, looking down at the floor.

"How did Albert seem?" Stacie carried on unpacking the groceries and putting things in the fridge. She found her phone at the bottom of one of the bags and placed it on the counter.

Ash shrugged and started drilling a small hole in the cornicing to hold the fibre-optic camera. "I think he'd rather you didn't do this – and by the way, I feel the same, and so does Mickey – but we're all behind you a hundred percent if it's what you want."

"I'll be fine, especially with all this state-of-the-art surveillance equipment." Stacie stood up, grabbed a trigger pack of antibacterial cleaner from the kitchen work surface, and began squirting the fridge door.

"Haven't you done that already, twice?" asked Ash, climbing down the stepladder.

"Yes, but this whole place feels a bit yukky," came the reply as Stacie busied herself with a cleaning cloth.

"That'll be more to do with the landlady than the premises." Ash pointed his screwdriver at Stacie.

"Of that I have no doubt," she sighed.

**********

An hour or so later, Ash left Stacie to enjoy her new home, loaded his tools and other gear into the back of the van, and headed over to the building site in Chiswick which had unwittingly lent them out for the afternoon.

Stacie's intercom sounded and she buzzed the door open, assuming Ash had forgotten something. She was, therefore, surprised to see Mrs. Nugent standing on her doorstep, but she covered expertly with an effusive greeting.

"Anthea! How lovely of you to drop by! Come in and have a glass of wine with me, I'm just unpacking the shopping."

"Thank you, Samantha. So am I your first visitor, then?" Anthea entered the flat and looked around.

"You are!" Stacie uncorked the bottle, poured two glasses, and handed one to Anthea. She raised her own. "To good friends." She drank, but noticed that her visitor did not. Rather, she regarded Stacie coldly.

"Is something the matter, Anthea?" Stacie's voice had a note of concern.

"I rather think there is." Without warning, Anthea struck Stacie hard across the face, sending her staggering backwards and the glass smashing to the floor. "Now explain to me why I've just seen Jack leaving this building. Don't lie. I know he's been here."

Stunned, Stacie put a hand to her mouth and saw blood on her fingers. "What…what have I done, Anthea? Why did you hit me?"

"You're not a stupid girl, I don't think." Anthea's whole demeanour was completely different from before; indeed, Stacie would have put money on her having an evil twin who had just showed up out of the blue. Nevertheless, as this seemed unlikely, she could only assume that Anthea had rumbled at least part of con, if only the bit about her and Ash's "separation".

Stacie decided to brazen it out. ""Yes, Jack was here! What of it? I can see who I like, when I like. Just because you've paid a couple of months' rent on this dump doesn't mean you own me!"

Anthea stepped closer to Stacie and grabbed the back of her hair. "You've got that totally wrong, sweetheart. I _do _own you. Where else are you going to go? Your cousin? I'm willing to bet she doesn't even exist. No, you'll stay right here and do just as I tell you. Speaking of which…" – Anthea drew a photograph from her pocket and handed it to Stacie – "…this gentleman will be paying you a visit later this evening. Make sure you're cleaned up and presentable. He prefers foreign women, so you can be Japanese, Mexican, whatever you like. Just be here and be…accommodating."

Stacie stared in growing horror at the picture of the thirtysomething Middle Eastern man. "You must be out of your mind if you think I'm going to turn tricks for you or anybody else! You know what you can do with your apartment…" She made a lunge for the front door, but Anthea pinned her against the wall, arm across her throat.

"You will do exactly as you are told," she said in a low and icy tone. "See this? It's the key to your door. I don't suppose you noticed there were _two _locks. This one is the mortice key, and once I've used it you won't be going anywhere." Anthea leaned off Stacie's windpipe, leaving her gasping, then swept the mobile phone from the kitchen worktop and pocketed it.

"Can't have you calling that scumbag of a husband of yours, now, can we?" she sneered as she slipped out and locked the door behind her.


	5. Chapter 5

Ash was nearing his destination when the remote alarm sounded on the passenger seat, almost causing him to crash the van. He stood on the brakes till the vehicle squealed to a stop, grabbed his mobile, then hesitated. If Stacie had used the panic button, in all probability there was a good reason for it – perhaps she didn't want to let it be known that she'd called for help. He tossed the phone aside, did a U-turn, and broke the speed limit all the way back to Paddington.

Taking out the door from the street with one shoulder charge, he made it up to Stacie's apartment in less than 30 seconds. He listened at the door to the flat for a moment, and could hear no voices, but still hissed cautiously through the keyhole. "Stace!"

"Ash!" came the plaintive voice from the other side of the door. "She's locked me in…the mortice…she had the key to it…I didn't realise…"

Mentally cursing himself, Ash responded, "Neither did I, Stace. Stand back." A few well-placed kicks broke the panels in the door and he was horrified to see Stacie's shocked and bleeding face staring at him from inside the flat. The rest of the door was instantly demolished and he held her as she sobbed with relief.

"It's OK, it's OK, I'm here."

"Oh, Ash, she was evil! She…she…" Unable to say it, she handed Ash the photo that Anthea had given her.

Ash was speechless with rage as he realised the implication. "Come on, we're out of here." He put his arm around Stacie's shoulders and led her downstairs. He settled her in the van, buckled her seatbelt, and drove off to the crew's apartment.

**********

"What the hell is going on here?"

"Mrs. Nugent, I…" Yasmina was brutally shoved out of the way as her boss stormed towards the two men going through her files and desk. A third was lifting her desktop computer tower out of its place.

"I said, WHAT IS GOING ON?!" hollered Anthea. A well-dressed woman presented a search warrant which was snatched away and read in disbelief.

"We have received several complaints about your business practices, Mrs. Nugent, and this morning we're in the process of obtaining evidence to verify or otherwise these allegations – which, I might add, are very serious."

"_Serious?!_" Anthea was momentarily struck dumb, then screamed, "SCOTT!"

Mickey appeared at her side. "Yes, Mrs. Nugent?"

"Call my lawyer!"

"Which one would that be, the tax or the…"

"The regular one! Just do it!"

Mickey vanished, and the officers who had been searching the desk lifted boxes of files and started to make their way out. Anthea collapsed onto the couch, furious and confused. She heard a knock at the outer office door, but didn't look up. It took her a few moments to register that someone was standing in the doorway, watching her. When she looked up, the situation she thought couldn't get any worse did just that.

"Evan!" she rasped, clutching at her throat. She scrambled to a standing position, grabbing at the nearest wall, floor lamp, anything that would help her get further away from this spectre of her past.

"Hello, Ann," smiled Porteous. He advanced across the office carpet. She retreated into the window bay.

"Get away from me! I'll call…" she stopped in mid-flow.

"…the police?" Evan Porteous finished pleasantly. He waved his hand in the direction of the outer office. "I think they just left. Would you like me to go and get them back for you?"

"What do you want?" spat Anthea desperately.

"Well, I think the police have got everything I want."

"What? What the hell are you talking about, you imbecile?"

"I, along with some like-minded friends, are in discussions with the Fraud Squad about your business activities dating back to the 1980s. I'm sure they'll find plenty of interesting paperwork in all those boxes they've taken away. I think it will be a very instructive exercise." The man walked around the office, examining the paintings on the wall, the paperweight on the desk, admiring the vista from the window. "You know, this is a really spectacular view you have up here." He turned to face the woman who had nearly broken him. "Do you ever stop and think about the people you climbed over to get it?" He inched closer. "You have ruined so many lives. There are a lot of people who want justice – or revenge – or, in fact, both. And we're going to make sure you answer for what you've done over all these years."

Anthea had managed to recover her composure. "I want you to leave my office!" she commanded. "Right now! Scott! Scott!"

Mickey strolled casually into the room, hands in pockets. "Yes?" he enquired.

"Scott, escort this…this…_person _off the premises, and he's not to get back in, do you understand me?"

"Oh, I don't think so, do you, Evan? No. Because like Mr. Porteous and his associates, I think that you need to experience the consequences of your actions."

Nugent was utterly flummoxed as she looked first at Mickey, then at Porteous, then back again.

"Believe me, Anthea, there's not much would have persuaded me to come and work for you, other than that I was looking for as many smoking guns as I could find. And…" - Mickey reached round the corner of the door to the outer office and produced Stacie, his arm around her waist - "…my good friend here tells me that you left her in an unpleasant and dangerous situation earlier today. Call me old-fashioned, but I don't like to see my friends hurt or put at risk. I wonder how a charge of pimping will go down, on top of the scams you've been running?" He and Stacie started to leave, but Mickey turned back. "Oh, and I think you'll find Yasmina has quit." The pair departed, leaving Evan Porteous grinning in a rather smug manner at Anthea, who was now sitting at her desk, head in hands.

**********

"Don't _ever _put yourself in a situation like that again," Albert scolded Stacie.

"Come on, Albert, she couldn't possibly have anticipated that Anthea was a madam on the side!" Mickey leapt to his friend's defence.

"No, but she should have trusted her intuition…Stacie, can you honestly tell me that you didn't have _any_ misgivings about moving into that apartment?" Albert asked her.

"Of course it was a risk, that's what we do!" Stacie was not about to admit to anything more specific. "And things could have gone wrong at any time…especially when you started hanging around outside Anthea's house," she added pointedly.

"That was different. I was simply watching out for a fellow grifter and friend. I was deeply concerned about you." The old man wasn't giving in easily, either, and Mickey could see a repeat of the _contretemps_ between Albert and Ash rearing its ugly head. He strove to change the subject.

"What matters now is that we ran a successful score," he stated emphatically. "Anthea got what was coming to her, Porteous and the rest got justice, and we…well, we may not have got as much out of this as we hoped, but…"

"How much exactly _did_ we get?" Ash wanted to know.

Mickey gave a conspiratorial smile. "Well, I have my salary…" he began, only to be shouted down by the others. "Sorry, I couldn't resist that," he laughed.

"Seriously, Mickey," Stacie reprimanded him.

"Seriously – we're looking at a comfortable £95,000 at least." This met with definite approval from the rest of the crew, and Mickey added, "I really have Stacie to thank for the dazzling CV that convinced Anthea to hire me. Without that, she wouldn't have entrusted me with the access to her bank accounts. Of course, I only touched the account marked 'Petty Cash'; the rest I left for the Fraud Squad."

" 'Petty cash'?" echoed Ash, stunned. "That's some amount of small change!"

"Looking at the spreadsheets, she seems to have been in the habit of siphoning off her tax payments into a separate account and occasionally dipping into it. Not too often, though, as she had a healthy fear of the Inland Revenue knocking on her door one day and not being able to pay the bill. So it built up over each tax year – and of course, with this being May, she's a bit behind…"

"…and will doubtless continue to be so!" exclaimed Albert with great satisfaction. "A fitting result. My dear," he said to Stacie, "I doff my cap to you and the skill with which you have put this con together."

"I couldn't have done it without you all – especially Ash. I really was on the verge of freaking out when Anthea locked me in the flat. If he hadn't fitted that panic alarm I don't know what I would have done…"

"Let's not go there," said Mickey firmly, seeing that Albert was beginning to look a little put out at Stacie's fulsome praise of Ash.

"Yeah, it was a close-run thing, but you don't wanna dwell on it," agreed the fixer. "Anyhow!" He stood up and rubbed his hands. "Who's for a night out on the town? I was starting to get cabin fever, Borehamwood-style."

"Oh, Ash, if you don't mind, I'm going to have a nice long soak in the bath and then an early night. All that excitement has really tired me out." Stacie stretched and yawned.

"Count me out too, I've got a poker game over at Eddie's lined up." Albert rose and left the room. Ash looked hopefully in Mickey's direction.

"Don't look at me! My needlepoint is way behind as it is." Ash pulled a reproachful face at him. "I could do with a quiet night in myself, Ash," said Mickey, in more serious mood.

"Oh well, I'll go stag." Ash shrugged on his leather jacket, made sure he had his keys, and headed for the door.

"Wait!" said Mickey, confused. "Where are you going?"

"You didn't want to know," was Ash's response. "Fine by me." With an enigmatic smile, he was gone.

Mickey slumped back on the settee, rubbing his face to try and recover some energy. He had found Albert's copy of _Newsweek,_ and was thumbing through it when Stacie reappeared and looked around.

"Where are the others?" she asked.

"Albert's getting ready for his card game, and Ash has gone out," answered Mickey, still reading.

"Oh, right." Stacie was gone again when Mickey looked up, and some time after that he was engrossed in a travel article when he heard the front door slam.

"No fun without us, Ash?" he asked with a grin – which faded as he lowered the magazine and realised he was alone. Frowning, he stood up and was about to go and knock on Stacie's door when Albert came into the room, suitably attired for a late night/early morning at Eddie's, and looking rather pleased with himself.

"Don't wait up," he instructed, somewhat redundantly, and left.

Mickey shook his head in amusement. It was only after he had read a few more articles in the magazine that he became aware of the silence in the apartment. He remembered that he had been about to check on Stacie before, and rapped lightly on the door to her room. Getting no reply, he opened the door a crack and called softly, "Stacie! Sorry to disturb you…" Poking his head round, his gaze took in the empty bed and the selection of dresses strewn across it. The unmistakable signs of a night out made him laugh aloud, and he closed the door and returned to his reading. Soon he came across a piece about the extramarital affairs of a well-known U.S. senator, which caused him some amusement, and then brought him up short. _"No-one suspected their secret relationship"_, he read, and something tickled the back of his consciousness. A frown creased his brow as he reached for the phone.

"Eddie? It's Mickey. Yeah, I'm fine. Can I have a word with Albert? I think he's got his mobile turned off."

"It's more than me life's worth to interrupt Albert when he's in the middle of a game, Mick," declared the bartender. "I'll pass a message on once they take a break, if you like."

"Oh, that's all right, don't bother. I'll catch him later. Thanks." Mickey rang off and tapped his lips thoughtfully with the phone. Then he gave a dismissive laugh. It was only his overactive imagination…


End file.
